Silent Screams

This past week has been extremely stressful. There is a tug of war going on at work regarding who I am working for, as well as a tug of war with my former employer over a conflicts waiver. That stress, coupled with the tremendous change in my life of now working outside the house and being away from the kids for 9 hours a day is somewhat overwhelming. Add to that the ever-present, foreboding force of the cancer demons invading Mark's body and the roller coaster of chemo, and you have a recipe for a collosal stress soup.

And I find as the tension grows, my ability to speak is lessening. I am swallowing more. Paralyzed more. Quiet more. Not able to even begin to address the myriad emotions inside of me. I'm haunted by everything Mark has brought into my life in the last two years - infidelity, deceit, and illness. All of it is sitting inside of me like a 100-pound stone lodged deep down in my throat. Words seem helpless to try and describe with any accuracy the wound that stone is causing, as it bears down with each passing day.

I seem to only breathe when I'm away from all of it. In my safe spaces - yoga and massage. And as hard as it is to escape for those precious hours of peace, I am determined to do so. Even when discomfort and guilt rise with each request for time and space. Even when I fully believe I just want to curl up in a ball at home and hide. Those are my lifelines and they rebuild me from the ground up each time I let them. They release some of that crushing weight. At least temporarily. I want to add a chiropractor to my bag of tricks. To open up and release the blockage in my back and shoulders.

Somehow, and in time, I know that my body will heal my mind and heart. If I let it.... If I show up enough and make it a priority. My body holds the key.